


Centerfold

by thesaddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Crack, Detroit Tigers, Gen, Hero Worship, New York Yankees, Plot Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-05
Updated: 2006-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-26 21:12:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Mussina says nothing.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Centerfold

**Author's Note:**

> Old crackfic.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

“You know, I grew up worshiping you when I was a kid,” Justin says, shifting awkwardly, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, shyly. He glances up at Mussina and smiles, before looking down at the tops of his shoes.

Mussina says nothing, just stares out with his unwaveringly impenetrable stare. 

“I mean, I’m not saying that you’re old, ’cause you’re not. You’re so not. I mean, you’re just – you know I wear 35 ’cause of you? And I got a knucklecurve too, ’cause of you.” Justin unconsciously shifts his fingers into the grip for the knucklecurve.

Mussina doesn’t reply, perhaps weighing possible responses to Justin’s unusual proclamations. Or perhaps planning an emergency escape route.

“God, all I wanted was for you to get that perfect game,” Justin sighs, opening his hand on his thigh and flexing his fingers. “I cried when Alomar fucked it all up, man, I fucking _cried_ my eyes out like a little girl. I wanted it so bad, it was like I wanted it for _me_.”

Mussina can’t reply, probably overwhelmed. Justin doesn’t blame him. He would be too.

“And fucking Jeffrey Maier, I hate that fucking punk,” he says, nodding emphatically to Mussina. “I mean, I know he’s, like, twenty-two or something now, but he’ll always be that annoying little twelve year old piece of shit to me. They fucking gave him the key to the city. Only in New York, man, only in fucking New York.”

Mussina says nothing, still just staring.

“Well. Thank you for listening. And, I just – I’m so excited to finally meet you. And. And.” Justin pauses, shifting again, rubbing at the back of his neck. He looks down at the tops of his shoes and swallows hard. “Would you like to, uh, get something to eat?”

Justin takes Mussina’s reticence as a “no.”

“Well. Okay. See you on Tuesday then. And, uh, good luck. But not too much.” Justin quirks up the corner of his mouth in a half-smile. Mussina doesn’t smile back.

Justin sighs and leans forward, pulling the poster down off his wall.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
